It was bright.

Everything was too damn bright in Maine's opinion as he looked out over the nearly abandoned Arizona town. Working in tandem with the pale green sky and the garish orange sand, the cold kiss of sunlight wasn't helping to hide what he was looking at.

Even on the outskirts and observed through a pair of rose-tinted binoculars, the signs of a dying town were clear. Buildings stood empty, with only old wood or rotting cardboard nailed or taped over windows and doors. Even with those barriers, sand and dust had moved in to fill the gaps. Indeed, much of the main road that cut through the town was dusted with sand or other detritus, and more than one side street impassible except on foot.

"Second Lieutenant? Sir?" The distorted voice came from his side, sounding like one of the new recruits.

"Yeah?" Maine lowered the binoculars, only now turning to look at the man, flat skin where his face should have been.

"APC's loaded and ready to go, sir." The words came across clear, despite the lack of a mouth.

Maine gave a nod, dismissing the faceless grunt with a wave of his hand. They had been staking the place out for a day or two now, a report having come in that one of the insurgent groups had been hiding in the town. So far, he hadn't seen anything to confirm or deny these reports. The few people they did see moving about looked like civvies who were just too stubborn to move away from their dying town. He had relayed this back to command, who were now considering an air strike on the place. The thought of potentially bombing civilians made some of the greener recruits blanch, but Maine found he could no longer bring himself to care too much about the nameless inhabitants. "Let's go."

He followed the grunt back to the APC, motioning for the remaining featureless soldiers to climb in as he took the passenger's seat. Command wanted them to make a final 'on the ground' show of force by driving through the town, just to see if they met any resistance. Maine doubted they would, but had a feeling Command was doing this just as a show of 'good faith'. As they drove, he could almost hear Colonel Hansen spinning another tale of how they drove through the town, found it empty (despite the reports of civilians), and bombed it to prevent the enemy from gaining a potential hold out.

"Sir? Up ahead." The driver pointed to the street where a trio of toddlers were playing in the street, a couple of of women off to the side watching them. Internally, Maine sighed – recognizing the tactic. Have some kids or other harmless civilians in the road, potentially forcing an advancing vehicle to stop until they moved. In cases like this, you only had two main options. The first being to stop and tell them to move, all the while praying that its not an ambush. The second was to simply pretend you didn't see them and keep driving.

This time, Maine saw a rare third option.

"Keep driving." Maine commanded, head turned to the side as he looked anywhere but forward. Ambushes almost never came head on, but usually from the side.

"Sir?" He could hear the sound of the engine starting to slow as the driver took his foot off the gas.

"I said keep driving." He barked, "and maintain your speed. Aim for that gap between the two buildings there."

Maine pointed to the gap in question, which looked not much wider than the APC itself. Getting chewed out by command for some additional 'property damage' was better than the potential for a front page headline about being a 'child killer'.

The plan seemed to work, the alley expanding as it allowed the APC passage.

It was too bad they didn't see the Free State's Heavy Panzer until it was too late.

The tank rammed into the APC, and while it didn't flip it, it rattled and shook the occupants within as they were knocked into a nearby building. Maine's side had taken the hit directly, stunning him even as the rest of his men continued to move. He heard the driver cussing about the engine being damaged. Heard another telling them to bug out and take up arms. The sound of gunfire and screaming came from somewhere close by, just loud enough to snap Maine out of shock and into action.

He grabbed his gun and joined his men on the front, adding his own fire to their own. The insurgents matched them shot for shot from a nearby building, taking shots at them from windows and the door.

"Fuck! Where's our heavies?" He shouted, moving to resupply from the APC. He started handing heavy guns and other weapons to the faceless men who came to resupply.

While the majority of the soldiers moved to comply with his order, a handful seemed to hesitate. One of the bolder members of the latter group shouted something to him, tried to argue against the use of the heavy guns and explosives.

"No. They've probably got munitions in there for days. All we've got is in here!" Maine slapped the side of the APC, resisting the urge to smack the soldier instead as he reloaded his gun. "We've got to take 'em out, and take 'em out now!"

"But sir. The civi-"

"Fuck them! Now grab your guns and FIRE!" He roared, taking aim with his own as his men opened fire. Screams echoed from all sides, some from bullets or RPGs, some from those caught up in the crossfire. After a few minutes of constant bombardment, Maine raised a hand and formed it into a fist, calling for a cease-fire. Collectively, they held their breath as they watched for any sign of movement from the other side.

There was none.

Head starting to clear, Maine instructed for the wounded to be tended to. Hand-picking a couple of his men, he motioned for them to check out the building. They nodded, staying crouched as they ran across the street into the building. After a moment, he saw them standing in the doorway – faces no longer blank but now holding odd, almost judgmental looks as they gave the all clear and gestured for them to come over.

"No survivors?" Maine queried, a few of the still able-bodied men joining him.

"None, sir." The soldier confirmed with a nod, eyes downcast as if he was afraid to share that knowledge.

"Son, that's a good thin-" He started, raising a hand to place it on the man's shoulder.

"Not when its fucking children!" The soldier snapped, swatting his hand away as he pointed to the room behind him. A dozen or more kids, the oldest maybe twelve and the youngest three, all laid dead in a corner of the room. Their bodies riddled with bullet holes or gashes from shrapnel. Two older women, possibly their caretakers were on the outside of the pile. No doubt they tried to use their own to shield the kids.

Maine let out a grunt, mouth falling open as he noticed a lack of insurgent bodies, weapons, or anything else that would have justified their attack. "Where-"

"Fuckers bolted the moment we drew the heavy guns!"

Shouts came from all around him, some yelling at him for having given the order. Others shouted at their comrades, stating they would have been dead anyways when the airstrike came. Maine growled, stepping on a broken piece of glass as he got a split second glimpse of the fist being thrown at his face. Instead of the blunt heat he expected to feel, he instead felt a cool sharp stinging along his face.

The sensation of shattered glass peppering his face woke him up at once.

"Fuck!" Maine sat bolt upright, sheet flying off his body as his arm reached under his pillow for the pistol he kept there as the sounds of combat met his ears again.

Cocking it, he raised it into the half-light, eyes looking around for the threat as his conscious mind started to return. He wasn't in an abandoned town in Arizona, but his Spartan-furnished bedroom. He saw the shards of glass that now littered his floor and bed, all that remained of his bedroom's window. Keeping to the side, he looked out, seeing the familiar neon advertisements against steel and glass buildings. Looking to the street below, he could see some gangoons engaging in a shoot out and realized that's what influenced his dreams. And woke him.

"Fucking gonks..." Disarming his pistol, he set it down on his bedside table as he opened the drawer beneath it to remove the 'escape bouquet' he kept there. Three MOLODETS BioHaz Grenades hooked to a wire that, with a flick of his wrist would pull the pins as he chucked it as a distraction to get away from whomever was attacking him. Or as a way to pay back a bunch of gonk gangoons for breaking his window.

Again.

With a virulent grin, Maine pulled the wire and tossed the bouquet onto the street below. A faint hissing sound was all the warning the gangoons got as the canisters released their non-toxic gas and making the gangoons gag and cry as they ran.

He rubbed his temple, pulling the cheap curtain over the window for what little protection it would provide from the unpredictable weather of Night City...and the smell that would linger from those grenades. "Fuck..." Maine mentally growled."Old Man Dinklebury's not gonna be happy about this."

Maine kept the pissy thoughts to himself as he left a message with his landlord's answering service about the window. He made to move back to bed, but seeing the time decided he might as well just get up and start the day. Letting out a grunt, he returned his pistol to its resting place before stripping the bed of its sheets. Shaking them, he took care to make sure there were no shards remaining on them. The mattress even got a quick check as the old military instinct to organize his bunk kicked in, and he carefully folded and adjusted the sheets until there wasn't a crease to be seen.

Thankful as he was that his cyberlegs let him walk on broken glass barefoot, he still moved with care to not create a bigger mess. He stepped from his bedroom and walked the two strides to his kitchen to retrieve the broom and dustpan. Turning on the light, Maine swept up the glass shards (even targeting the ones that went under the bed as best he could) before dumping them into the small trash can he kept by the bedroom door. He left the broom leaning against the wall as Nature called, and he was forced to answer.

He moved across the hall to the bathroom, relief flowing into him as he relieved himself before moving to wash his hands and his face. The coolness of the water felt wonderful, and served to wake him up a bit more than the PTSD fueled memory, (or was it a nightmare?) had done. He closed his eyes, trying to recall the reality of that mission. The only detail he could seem to recall clearly was that he was the one who had been driving. And that he had only turned after hearing the thump of something being crushed under the weight of the APC. Something big had collided with them coming out of the turn, but had it really been a tank? Or was it an armored car? Who shot first? Did he really get punched in the aftermath? Or did one of his own men draw iron on him?

It didn't matter, the end result was still the same; fifteen dead kids, two dead women...all from his decision to take that turn.

It was part of the reason that, to this day, Maine didn't like to be behind the wheel of large vehicles. It was why he drove a sports car that he took up nearly a third of by himself instead of an SUV or similar vehicle. Smaller, less weight, and move maneuverable.

He groaned, scratching at his scalp. He always kept his hair high and tight, but could feel that it was growing a little unkempt and could use a trim. Looking in the mirror confirmed his suspicion about his hair. And running a hand along his jawline, revealed a layer of stubble coming in around his usual goatee. He looked over at his razor, but noticing the slight twitch in his arms and feeling his eyes twitching slightly, decided he could wait another day. A wave of guilt passed over Maine as he once again stared at his shaking arm. Viktor had done a wonderful job upgrading his chrome, but the upgrades had come with a high personal cost.

"Shit, I'm sorry guys..." Not for the first time, the apology was given to the air.

In the privacy of his apartment, Maine could admit that his resistance towards everyone's suggestions to 'downgrade' hadn't just been out of fear of slowing down. Instead, it was because each piece of chrome attached to him had once belonged to a now fallen teammate. His right arm that was lost because of an IED? Replaced with the right arm of Sargent Orion who had been killed by that same IED. His cyberoptics? A 'gift' from Private Nevins after the boy had been burned alive by the phosphorus grenade that left Maine blind.

By the time the Unification War had ended, and the Colonel defected to make his own city ('Dogtown' – a stupid name for a dumb idea), the only things, aside from most of his organs, that were original to him were the color of his skin, his face and hair, the muscles in his chest, his ass, and wedding tackle.

Even his actual name had been abandoned, lost in favor of keeping the nickname his comrades had given him. As a recruit, he told his buddies how he had been born and raised in the state of Maine. In almost universal agreement, the rest of them agreed that he didn't look the part of a traditional 'Mainer'. Thus, they had christened him 'Maine' as a sort of in-joke, and he accepted it proudly. To this day, he hadn't told anyone the truth about his name and chrome – leaving even Dorio in the dark.

"Should take my meds while I'm here." The blond man muttered, eyes falling on the neon bright blue pill box she had bought him. Dorio claimed it was more noticeable – and figured he'd appreciate it more than the other option of neon bright fucking pink. So far, the box had done its job of reminding him to take his vitamins, supplements, and the other meds that Viktor had prescribed for him. Reaching for the small cup he kept in the bathroom just for the purpose of taking his pills, Maine knocked them back and drained the glass. An involuntary sigh of relief escaped him, body pleased to be given actual water instead of any other beverage that simply had water as an ingredient.

He filled up another glass and drank half of it before looking at the small medical box to sit behind his pills. Opening it revealed the injector system and the vials of immuno-suppressants that had also been prescribed. Picking up the injector, he loaded one of the vials before instinctively bringing it to a spot on his left arm, just above the elbow. The familiar sensation of the medicine flowing into his bloodstream made him groan in physical relief. While not the strongest stuff on the market, Doc Vektor refused to prescribe those unless he got worse. They were miles better than the old over-the-counter shit he had been using for years.

"Just wish this stuff wasn't so damn expensive." Not that he was the one paying for it most of the time. Just under a year into their relationship, Dorio had pulled a few strings to have him on her insurance (how she had insurance at all was still a mystery to him, but he wasn't going to question or complain). His old medication had been easy enough to afford out of pocket – fifty eddies for a week's worth of the basic stuff. And then it became free with her insurance behind it. But the new stuff? Even with insurance covering ninety-seven percent of the cost, it was three-hundred eddies for a twenty-eight day supply. It sounded insane to him, until Viktor pointed out that the cost without insurance was nearly three thousand eddies instead.

Storing the injector away, Maine moved out of the bathroom and back towards the kitchen. His apartment wasn't much, but it was enough for him (and Dorio most of the time. He really should just ask her to move in with him.). The kitchen doubled as the dining room, having enough room for him to have a small table tucked against the wall. And the living room was spacious enough for a couch and end tables – while the TV was mounted to the wall across from the couch. Aside from a few personal touches of posters on the walls or little nick-knacks around the place, the only thing to set it apart from some of the other apartments were the various shelves and weapon racks, holding his gear and maintenance supplies.

He turned on the TV, letting the droning of whatever program was fill the silence of the apartment as he looked in his fridge for breakfast.

"I really need to make a run to the store." He made the mental note, trying to distract himself from repressed memories by focusing on the mundane. Finding his breakfast options limited, Maine eventually settled on a Chromanticore and some left-over fried rice. Taking a seat on the couch, Maine cursed as he tried to open his energy drink. While his eyes had stopped their twitching, his hand was still shaking a little. He took a deep breath, finally hooking the pull tab of the can.

"Heh. I win." The old soldier raised the can in victory, taking a sip as the TV switched to the news and started talking about the latest cyberpsycho attack. Idly, the report made Maine's mind drift back to the mall. He recalled how V had stood there, sightless yet seeing. Saw how the man was shaking as he was simultaneously in control while having no control. The blond looked to his own hand, noting the faint tremor it had even though he tried to keep it still.

"You're really not going to stop, are you?" He asked the redundant question to his arm, already knowing the answer. Sighing heavily, Maine decided he needed a little outside help and looked through his contacts until he found the number he was looking for. "Just hope its not too early for the good doctor..."

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When Maine had called Viktor Vektor at quarter of seven, he hadn't expected the man to pick up after the second ring. He had explained the situation to the ripper, who told Maine to stop by in about an hour as he was just finishing up another appointment. Maine finished his breakfast, deciding to take a quick shower before getting dressed. Recalling his first check up with Vik, Maine opted to go with some of his looser clothing; An old pair of cargo shorts, tank top, and his leather jacket. Slipping into his boots, he made a final check of his apartment before heading to the clinic.

The ripper gave him a nod as he entered, gesturing for him to take a seat after initial greetings and further explanations given. Ditching his jacket, Maine settled into the exam chair, plugging in his personal as Viktor started the exam.

"How's everything been feeling since we last met?" Viktor asked, typing a few things on his computer. "The new Skinn treating you well?"

"Pretty good." All things considered, Maine had to admit the new chrome had him feeling better than he had in years. "It's nice to, and don't misunderstand me, be the right color again?"

"I hear that more often than you'd think." Viktor smiled, "but you were saying?"

"Well, I'm not sure if it's because of the higher quality skinn I have now compared to that rubber crap, but the touch sensors in my hands seem more sensitive than before. Didn't realize until recently how rough my bed sheets actually were." He chuckled, recalling Dorio's look of smug indignation as he told her she was right about his sheets being too rough, but also that her sheets were too soft.

"And does that cause you any sort of pain or discomfort?" The ripper picked up a Phillips head screwdriver with one hand, and poked his linked hand first with the pointed end, then with the base. "That was sharp, this is dull. Look away and I'm going to poke you with one side or the other. When I asked, tell me what you feel."

"Sure." Maine nodded, turning his head as Viktor started to poke him with the pointed end. "And It doesn't cause me any sort of discomfort. It's just, strange I suppose?"

"How so? And which one am I poking you with?"

"You started sharp, went to dull, then back to sharp a couple times and are now using the dull end again." The old soldier looked back, watching as the screwdriver was returned to the belt around the ripper's waist. "And, I don't know how to explain it. Maybe...Sandpaper? Like originally it all felt like medium grade, but now I can clearly tell coarse from medium from fine? Does that make sense?"

"It does." The ripper smiled. "And that's normal for the first few weeks if not months for people who undergo upgrades as overdue as yours. Now if you told me that, using your sandpaper analogy, that touching fine sandpaper felt like you were touching a running belt sander? Then we'd have an issue."

Maine nodded, watching as Viktor administered a local to his arm before peeling back some of the skinn around his elbow. He watched as the man bent and flexed the arm, seeing him nod in approval. "Joints are in better repair this time, no sand. You've been keeping up on the maintenance?"

"Best I can. But I haven't been doing much work recently so..." Maine admitted, shrugging. "I might have missed a day or two here and there."

"Well, everything's still hooked up properly so that's not a huge concern right now." Vik looked again to his data pad, adding a few more notes. "Now, tell me a little more about the shaking that you've noticed. When did it start?"

"About a week after what happened at the mall." Maine answered, thankful that Viktor at least knew some of the details given the condition Pilar and Lucy had been brought to him in. "It's not been all the time, maybe once or twice a week."

"I see. And what were you doing when these, let's call them episodes, happened?"

"First one? I was just sitting on the couch, watching the news..." He closed his eyes, thinking. "They were talking about the gang war at the mall, showing some pictures of the carnage outside and it just started. And it happened again when I was turned down for a gig, or given a shit job that wouldn't be worth the CHOO2 spent getting there." His hand formed into a fist. "Thought it might have just been from anger, or frustration. But then it happened after seeing a notice that my utility bill bounced. And just this morning, I couldn't stop shaking after...After the nightmare I had."

Maine looked down, telling anyone about his nightmares always made him feel weak. Dorio argued that it made him human, but Maine wasn't quite so sure.

"Not an uncommon occurrence for people in your line of work." Maine was thankful that Viktor wasn't asking him to talk about them. "And that's on top of the PTSD your psyche evaluation confirmed from your time in service. Not saying that's the be-all end-all of it, but it is a major player."

"Meaning?"

"Let me run a few more scans to confirm and check a few things." Viktor once again typed a few things on his computer, making sure it was doing its job before looking back at him. "Other than in your arms, have you noticed the shaking anywhere else?"

"Just my optics, but its been more of a minor twitch and occasional loss of focus. Like when you first wake up or after rubbing your eyes." Viktor nodded, taking out a flashlight that he shined into Maine's eyes. The two of them continued talking as Viktor continued his examination. Checking a connection here, making an adjustment there.

"Well, all that seems to be in order." Viktor offered, making some notes. "I trust you've been taking the pills I prescribed, and the supplements too?"

"Yeah, I've been taking them in the morning when I first wake." He smiled, pleased that he had only missed one or two doses since starting the regiment. "Same goes for the immuno-suppresants." The blond explained to Viktor his new care routine, seeing the doctor nod.

"Alright. And at any point in time during the day, have you taken additional doses of any of them?"

"Once or twice, on the really bad days, I've taken a dose of the old immuno-suppresant I used to take, as a booster." Maine saw Vik shake his head. "Is that bad? Should I not have done that?"

Viktor brought up two screens on his data pad, and from what little Maine could see thought they looked like those information labels you see on medications.

"It's not ideal, but its acceptable at times. See, the two medications are the same, but different strengths. It's over-the-counter versus prescription strength." He showed him the comparison. "Think of it is having a snack in between two larger meals. Fine in moderation, but shouldn't become a habit."

"Makes sense." Maine knew Viktor was keeping it simple and that there was more to it, but he wasn't about to complain. He could administer medications and field dress wounds with the best of them, but the finer details of medical practices were lost on him. "But even with that, I'm not sure they're working. I mean, originally it seemed the effects were instantaneous when I took them. But now, there's a delay? I don't know how to explain it."

"But they're still providing some relief?" He questioned, and Maine nodded in confirmation. "Then that means they are working, in the sense that they're doing their job."

"But?" Maine prompted, hearing the unspoken words of the ripper as he continued the examination. "You know you can be blunt with me Vik."

"But, as I might have mentioned before, they're not enough to stop the damage." He showed Maine something on the screen of his data pad. "On the left is a scan of a healthy brain. On the right is the scan I took of yours. See the difference?"

How to read x-rays and scans might not have been Maine's area of expertise, but even he could see the differences. His brain had an occasional dark spot here and there, while the other one was clean. There was also a nearly imperceptible size difference between the two, something Maine only realized reading the notes in the margins.

"Even with all of the new tech, and the medications and other healthcare options available, your brain is still burning that fuse I warned you about. The upgrades to your chrome. The medications. All they've been doing is stalling it, slowing it down." Viktor showed him a few more stills, including one that was projection of how his brain would have looked at this point in time if he hadn't gotten treated when he did. "As it stands, you'll end up like a Berserker with Alzheimer's. Your body will stay as strong as ever, but your brain will have gone to mush."

"Shit." Maine looked down at his hands, eyes closing as another wave of guilt overtook him. Briefly, he saw the faces of his comrades standing in the room with him, expressions stoic. It had been selfish of him, giving up what remained of his buddies lives for the sake of extending his own just a little more. "So...How long do you think I have at my current rate?"

"With your current lifestyle? You've got a good year, but two or three are possible with minor changes. Four isn't outside the realm of possibility if you make some big changes, but five or more would be a miracle." The ripper answered bluntly, expression grim.

"You say my current lifestyle? What do you mean?" Maine leaned forward, realizing he was starting to shake again from nerves as opposed to a neurological problem. "My diet? My exercise habits?"

"That's only a small part of it." Viktor moved away and over to a small fridge, removing a bottle from within. He handed it to Maine, who raised an eyebrow as he realized it was a beer instead of medicine like he expected. "Know what you're thinking, but you need something that's not pharmaceutical to settle your nerves."

"Knew there was a reason I liked you." Maine popped the cap off and took a drink, stalling for time he really didn't have. Working as soldier, then as a merc, Maine knew you lived on borrowed time to begin with and had accepted that fact. It was only in recent years, after he had met Dorio and the rest of the idiots who became his 'family' (not that he'd ever call them that), that he found himself wanting to be there for them. That feeling only grew after what happened with Sasha, and now with David on the team? The kid reminded him a lot of himself when he was that age, and he wanted to see the kid succeed in life as he had.

Maine felt an odd mixture of anger and resentment, but couldn't pinpoint towards who. It wasn't at Viktor, the man was just doing his job as best he could. Actually, Viktor deserved to be praised, given that his efforts had granted him a few more months with Dorio. And the rest of the family. And now, it seemed the man could still give him more time if he was understanding correctly. Taking another drink and a deep breath to center himself, Maine asked the only other question he could think of.

"So...What are my options?"

"Might I advise retiring from the merc life."

"This late in the game?" Maine snorted dismissively.

"Now look, I don't mean stop working all together." Viktor began, "but I mean go legit. Consider becoming a supplier, or maybe even a fixer and work behind the scenes instead of on the front lines. If a 'desk job' like that doesn't appeal, joining a bodyguard service is another option if you still want a chance to be in on the action, just without as much stress as being a runner." The ripper hit him with a knowing clinical gaze. "Take my advice or don't, but I want to be clear on this. If you continue to be a merc, you're going to die sooner rather than later."

"I...Need some time to think about it." He took another drink. "In the meantime, is there anything else I can do? Or something I can take to help?"

"Keep taking the immuno-suppresants as you are now, with the supplemental doses in between if you feel you need it. Just make sure you space them out a good eight hours at least, alright?" Viktor got up from his chair and moved over to one of his shelves. "Going to also prescribe a stronger version of one of your current meds – this one meant to target nuero-degenerative symptoms more than the current one. How many days do you have left on your donepezil – the round, white one?"

"Four days for sure," Maine hummed, "possibly five."

"Sounds about right." Viktor checked something on his computer. "Now, you can either get this in pill form, or as an injection on the daily. The pills are less expensive, but take a little longer to work. The injections work almost instantly, but for around twice the cost."

"And how much is that?"

"Current rate? The pills add another forty eddies to your current costs. " Maine sighed, that wasn't too bad an increase. "And the intravenous is five-hundred and eighty-seven eddies. And that's with insurance."

"Seriously!?" Maine cursed, slamming his hand down on the arm of the chair. Similar to his first time visiting Vik's clinic and hearing the cost, he debated saying fuck the medications and just hope he was lucky. But the memory of Dorio's reaction to that idea (including the phantom sensation of her hand striking the back of his head while cussing him out for being a gonk) stalled the protest. "...I'm covered for either one, right?"

"Yeah, it's not the best coverage but..." The ripper shrugged, and Maine knew he was better off than the majority of people in his line of work. And a good portion of the population of Night City. "It's your decision. You don't have to answer now, but I'd appreciate an answer before you run out of your current medication. Just to help me speed things up a little on my end."

"Leaning towards the pills but...I'd like to get a second opinion." By the twitch at the corner of Vik's mouth, Maine could tell the man knew he meant consulting with Dorio. "Can I call you either later today or tomorrow and let you know on the meds?"

"Sure." The ripper picked up a small vial and syringe, and Maine watched as he proceeded to fill it. "For the here and now, I'm going to give you a dose of the intravenous version. Should do the trick, and might help you decide." Viktor moved to Maine's side and asked him which arm he usually used for the suppressants, and proceeded to administer the medicine.

Maine hissed, more from the cold feeling of the liquid entering his bloodstream than the needle. A moment later, and that coolness gave way to a feeling of relief that made him sigh contentedly. "Damn, that's some potent shit. Feels like someone released the vicegrip they had on my head."

"Glad to hear it." Viktor motioned for him to disconnect as he disposed of the syringe. "Now, I want you to avoid taking any additional suppressants or other similar drugs today. Keep taking your daily medications as you are now. We'll start you on the new stuff once you're done the old."

"Thanks doctor, really appreciate it." Maine took a moment to finish his beer. "And what do I owe you for today's visit?"

"Let me see..." Viktor looked at his computer, eyes narrowing slightly as he read. "As for today, most of that's covered by your insurance, and it seems V's account will pick up what's not. Beer's on the house." Maine nodded, feeling relived in more ways than one, something Viktor seemed to pick up on. "Maine, if you don't mind me making one more suggestion."

"Sure, go ahead." The old soldier took a moment to stretch as he got up from the chair.

"Know you haven't been working much the last few days, but consider taking an actual vacation." The ripper moved to a sink to wash his hands. "Or find a way to de-stress for awhile. Least, just until we get your medications sorted out, alright?"

"I'll try, but, you know." Maine gestured towards the street outside the clinic, making the ripper nod in understanding. "Thanks again Vik, and I'll let you know about the medicine."

"You're welcome." He heard the man call as he moved towards the door. "Take it easy now, you hear?"

Maine looked over his shoulder, giving Viktor a nod as he stepped outside and moved towards his car. While his steps were slow, his mind was considering everything Viktor told him, trying to decide what the best course of action was. He didn't want to retire, but maybe he could take a back seat and let the rest of the crew drive? Or would they see him as weak and cut him loose? Should he go into debt to pay for the treatments that would let him stay in the business? Was it worth it to work for the purpose of being able to work?

Fuck, he was going to overthink it at this rate and stress himself out. The one thing doctor Vektor warned him to avoid. He let out a frustrated cry and laid his head down on the roof of his car. "Doc's right, I need to relax." He raised his head, an internal chime alerting him to an incoming call. Upon seeing the name to pop up, Maine realized he might be able to kill multiple goons with the same bullet.

["Hey Dorio."]

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Following his phone call with Dorio, Maine's military strategy instincts kicked in, and he formulated a plan. For the last few days, she had been back at her place in Pacifica, making sure everything was still in one piece following another turf war between the VDBs and the Animals. While her apartment had been fine, some of her neighbors weren't so lucky. And as the daughter of the landlords...their complaints fell in her lap. Dory was a good sport about it, noting concerns and making calls, but Maine would always hear her bitch about it sooner rather than later. He told her it sounded like she needed a 'stress relief day', and she agreed, promising to meet him at his place in a couple hours.

Phase one – Resupply.

Not wanting anything other than essential operations to get in their way, Maine stopped by the local convenience store. He picked up an assortment of instant meals and snacks they both liked, along with basic ingredients to make a few simple meals on their own. A case of water and a couple boxes of condoms rounded out his shopping list. He had returned to his apartment and put everything in its rightful place, getting a message from Dorio that she was on her way over right as he stashed one of the condom boxes in his nightstand. He smiled, knowing that once she arrived. It would be time for phase two.

Phase two – Operation "Stress Relief".

He heard the door to his apartment click as Dorio entered, eyes watching as she turned around and made it locked behind her. He greeted her with a kiss, one filled with both lust and affection. She chuckled, giving into the kiss and offering no resistance as he dragged her to the couch and began a full frontal assault of her hills. She squealed in delight, before pushing back against his assault in favor of inspecting the artillery. Maine heard her tsk and saw the slight shake of her head before she decided to spit shine his cannon.

"Ah, Dory...Gah, too much..." He whined, making a futile attempt at getting her to surrender even as the first shot was fired. There was no hint of apology on Dorio's face as she retreated, muttering something about making her special Eezybeef ramen.

Unwilling to let her get away with leaving him a thudfuck, he intercepted her shortly after she stepped into the kitchen. Much as he loved her ramen, he decided he was in the mood for some seafood and instead decided to eat her peachy clam. Much as he was enjoying his meal, he could tell Dorio was getting hungry, and decided to treat her to a hot beef injection. She whined, but made no effort to stop him as he tossed the hawt dog down the hallway until she was full. It was his turn to look smug as he released her, tossing her a roll of paper towels so she could clean herself up as he took a seat at the table.

"Now, about that ramen?" He asked, ignoring the fact they just had a surf and turf banquet.

"Asshole." She threw the roll of paper towels back at him, but proceeded to cook anyways. The pair made it through their meal, and Dorio got partway through the dishes before Maine decided he wanted dessert and took to glazing the donuts. Once finished, he made a mental note to bleach the counter top later to remove the excess glaze that had spilled over as Dorio excused herself to the bathroom.

He debating joining her and scrubbing the tub, but feeling a bit worn out decided instead to move to the bedroom. Stripping down to nothing, Maine debated putting on a new pair of briefs, but decided against it as Dorio's arms wrapped around him from behind. He turned, noticing that she hadn't bothered to reclaim or change into anything.

He smiled, wrapping his arms around her before deciding to test the mattress. This was followed by yet another carnal embrace that lead to even more rounds of bedroom rodeo. Eventually, when both sides had enough of the BOHICA situation, they decided just to relax and enjoy the calm.

"Love you." Maine gave Dorio a kiss on her forehead as he shifted their posture so that her head was resting against his chest.

"Love you too." Dorio looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, a tiny smile on her face as they basked in the afterglow. "Although, I've got to know. What brought this on?"

"What?" He kissed her forehead again, pulling her up a little more on his chest so that her head was below his chin. "Can't show my girl how much I love her? Give her a day of relaxation after dealing with bullshit the last few days?"

"No, you can." She began to trace a pattern on his chest, "but why do I have a feeling this was just as much for you as it was for me?"

"Shit." He should have known he couldn't pull the wool over her eyes. Much as he wanted to lie, "Know how I told you I went to Vik's clinic for a check-up? Well, he told me I needed to relieve some stress. Take some time for myself." Dorio snorted, burying her head in the crook of his arm. "What?"

"Not that I'm complaining but..." She nuzzled just below his chin, lightly grinding up against him as she did. "I don't think a sexual marathon was what the good doctor meant."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow, having an idea where the conversation was going to go. "Then what did he mean?"

"Take some time off from gigs and bounties and use that time instead to see a movie, or go out shopping. Or just hang out with some of the crew." Dorio's head tipped to the side as he bristled. "You have been avoiding everyone a little over the last few weeks. It would do you good to get out."

"Alright, that's fair. But tell me..." Maine wrapped his arms around Dorio and pulled her so that she was laying on top of him. "Why isn't a week of sex a good enough stress reliever?"

"One, I don't want to get bored of you. Two, don't want to risk an unplanned pregnancy." Maine felt every fiber of his being tense up at that reminder, making her smile against him. Belatedly, he remembered the boxes of condoms he purchased earlier. "Relax big guy, there's a reason I'm on the pill. Know they're not a hundred percent foolproof but..."

"You're right. Don't need the stress a kid would bring." He gave her another squeeze, one hand gently rubbing at her back, making her hum. "But you know I can't just sit back and do nothing."

"And that's why I'm saying go out and do something that's not work." She tried to headbutt him, but he held her in place. "If you really want action without being on the front lines...See if any of the gun shops are having a shooting contest. Or if there's any car shows you can enter. I'm not saying do nothing, just that you should take your foot off the gas a little." Dorio managed to pull away enough so that she could rest her head on his heart. "Let the engine rest so that it doesn't give out."

"Dorio..." He started to protest, but then she turned her eyes on him. Normally, her blue eyes shined like the sky over the Badlands. But right now they appeared clouded as she stared at him. Maine could see the thoughts and emotions swirling behind them. He could feel the love. The concern that was radiating off her about his well being. He never thought that he'd find someone who loved him unconditionally, especially in Night City.

"Much as I'm here for a good time with you, I'd like you to be here with me for a long time." He could see tears starting to form in the corner of her eyes. "Please Maine? For me?"

The sight of Dorio in pain from the idea of losing him, coupled with the fact that she never asked for much in return for everything she gave him, dropped whatever resistance he had left. Sighing, he moved his hand from her back to her head and started scratching at her scalp. He was thankful she kept her hair short, as it allowed his fingers perfect access to find that one spot on her head that drove her mad.

"Alright." His fingers brushed over the spot, and Dorio melted into him with a purr. "I'll take a step back, for you."

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Following a good night's rest, Maine decided the next morning that he'd try Dorio's suggestion of hanging with the crew. He invited her along, but she declined, arguing that she needed to re-calibrate and do some maintenance on her legs after last night's roll in the hay.

"Again, not complaining." Dorio held up her hands, playfully pouting as she did. "But, I kind of can't feel anything below the waist. Not to mention, I'd appreciate a chance to relax myself after the last few days." She took a moment to stretch before she picked up their breakfast dishes. "So what about you? What's your plan of relaxation today?"

"I put out a message to the guys, but it seems everyone except Pilar is busy." Maine replied, checking his messages. He nodded as he notice one in particular, sending a reply. "Told him what you told me about needing to relax, and he was all for it. Gonna meet up with him later for drinks, and maybe do some shooting out in the Badlands."

"Hopefully not in that order." He felt Dorio kiss his temple and rolled his eyes. He wasn't that bad a shot when intoxicated...

"We'll see." Maine left it at that as Dorio disappeared back into the bedroom, emerging a moment later with a basket of soiled linens and clothes. Much as Dorio claimed she wanted to relax, Maine knew she'd use the time he was out to tidy up the apartment (and change the sheets) before she'd actually relax. "Pot calling kettle..."

Maine didn't make enough to afford one of the apartments with built-in laundry facilities, which mean Dorio had to carry their stuff to the building's shared laundry room. He held open the door, and took to cleaning up the apartment and changing the sheets while Dorio would wait and keep watch over their washing. Something that was done not out of fear of items being stolen, but rather tossed out of the machines and left wet on the floor to save a few eddies. By the time she returned, it was pushing lunch time and he decided to take her out for lunch at Turbo's (sue him, he wanted one of their burgers, and Dorio could never say no to their famous synth-berry shortcakes). After lunch, they returned to his apartment and watched a movie while cuddling on the couch. Dorio dosed off near the end, and it was only after Maine had carried her into the bedroom and tucked her in that she stirred.

"Go back to your nap." He pulled the duvet up tighter around her, making her smile. "I'm gonna head out and meet with Pilar a little early."

Dorio hummed, head bobbing in a tiny nod before she burrowed into the blankets. Giving her a kiss, he carefully backed out of the room and made his way out of the apartment to meet up with Pilar. The drive from Japantown to Northside passed quickly, and soon Maine found himself out front of the siblings' apartment building. Pilar told him it would be a couple minutes, as he was having a bit of trouble with his pants.

["Don't need the details..."] Maine had sent back, having heard from Becca, and David, about Pilar's latest 'upgrade'. Instead, he decided to remain outside, leaning on the hood of his car as he awaited the Techie's arrival.

"Hey hey! Good to see ya boss man!" Maine twitched as Pilar called out to him, starting a moment later as the techie slipped an arm around his shoulders. "You ready for a night of hydration therapy?"

"Is that what you kids call 'clubbing' nowadays?" He knocked the lanky man's arm off his shoulders, giving him a punch to the arm as he did.

"Kids? I'm what? Two years younger than you at most." Pilar almost looked offended.

"Exactly, which qualifies you for 'kid' status." Maine argued, getting in his car and motioning for Pilar to do the same.

"No, David, Lucy, and arguably Becca are kids." The techie took a seat, stroking his chin as he formulated his argument. "I, on the other hand, am a responsible adult."

"Well, you got part of that right." The solo muttered, ignoring the shuffling the other man was doing as he tried to find a comfortable way to sit. It didn't help that he could see the outline of Pilar's new chrome through his already tight pants.

"Which part? Being an adult or being responsible?" Pilar's eyebrows wiggled up and down, face set in a broad grin as he awaited Maine's answer.

"I'll let you know as soon as I figure that out myself." Maine shifted his focus to the road, switching to business. "Anyways, did you get the detes that I sent you?"

"Yeah, I did." He nodded, "but I'm a little confused."

"How so?"

"When you contacted me in the morning about wanting to hang out." Pilar's head tipped to the side, as if he was looking at the message. "Didn't you tell me that Dorio told you to take it easy? Lay back and relax, that sorta thing?"

"Yeah? What's your point?" Maine's eyes moved back over to the techie as they came to a red light.

"Isn't doing a gig kinda the opposite of that?"

"This isn't a real bounty." He looked back at the road. "We're just grabbing some mook who decided to not pay a tab. A bar hopper, not a Maelstrom crew."

"Still..." The other man started, making Maine sigh. Truth was, he had chosen Pilar for this job thinking he'd be the least likely to ask questions about his health.

"This ain't more than chump change to pay off our own bar tab. Fuck, for all we know he's not even going to be out tonight. So lets just drink, shoot the shit and have a laugh."

"Fine, but if Dorio comes to rip my dick off for this, I'm throwin' you under the NCART tram." Pilar pointed to his crotch, smiling as he did. Maine flinched, he hadn't seen it yet (and hopefully never would), but wondered if she'd be able to pull off such a feat. If the sight of it in its case was enough to put the kids in shell-shock. What did it look like actually attached? Shrugging off the thought, he drove them over to the first of the bars their target was known to frequent.

A hole-in-the-wall bar in Little China. It was nothing special, and the only other people currently occupying the place were some dumb young adults and a single drunk suit who looked to be having some bad luck. The mercenary pair each had a beer, before settling their tab in favor of finding someplace with more action.

Their second stop was in Downtown, at a place similar to the one they found in Little China. There was a lot more action here, the two having come on the night of a darts tournament. They didn't participate, but sat on the sidelines, cheering and jeering with the other patrons, clinking glasses as they looked for their mark. Maine was actually enjoying himself, and they probably stayed a little longer than they should have after it became clear their man wasn't going to show.

"Hey, least we didn't have to pay for our drinks this time." Pilar chuckled as they drove away, "what was that guy thinking? Challenging you to arm wrestling?"

"I don't know, and I don't care." Maine flexed his arm, showing off his muscles. "All I know is, we're still in the green on funds even if we don't find our guy."

The two shared a hearty laugh as they made their way to their third stop.

This time, it was a bar in Wellsprings near the seaside. Taking up three stories, it was a slightly higher end establishment. He had been there once or twice and, knew the drinks ran strong and cold. The two-story establishment was softly lit with the glow of neon lights, welcoming those into its warm embrace. A small raised platform in one corner served as a stage, and some group of buskers were playing covers of some classic rock songs.

Similar to their last stop, the bar had drawn a crowd tonight, but there was no shortage of stools, chairs, and tables. Grabbing a spot near the end of the counter, Maine signaled to the bartender for two beers and two shots of tequila as Pilar joined him. The drinks were placed before the two and after a toast to their current haunt, downed with vigor.

"You know, even if we don't find our guy...I'm glad we did this." Pilar gave Maine a pat on the back as another round was sent their way. "Feels good to get out. Probably should have done this sooner."

"Yeah. Not gonna lie, didn't realize how much I missed doing something like this until now." Maine agreed, taking a drink. He was about to say more, but a group of youths clad in green-tagged uniforms came walking into the place like they owned it. He caught sight of one of the grunt's faces as they passed under a light and recognized the man. That knowledge made Maine hunch into himself as he tried to appear like any other patron in the hopes they wouldn't notice him.

Bargest mercs.

Low as the odds were, they weren't zero and Maine realized he'd been spotted as three of the guys moved towards the table closest to where he sat.

"Well, lookee here!" The first of the three announced loudly, gesturing at him. "It's our ol' corpse eatin' captain, the fuckin' blue feathered deserter!"

The title made Maine cringe internally, but he kept his cool as he replied in kind. "I'd lie and say I recognize you. To be honest, only thing I remember about you is that you should have been a blowjob."

"Well, well, surprised a spineless fuck like you got any wits left after hiding your scrap iron ass with all the rest of the NC scumbags."

"The first thing I was taught when I was put in charge of shit stains like you was: 'never' laugh in front of the cannon fodder. Never broke that rule, but goddamn if you aren't pushin' my limit." Maine raised his glass to his lips and took a drink.

"Who are these guys?" Pilar whispered, hiding behind his own drink.

"Nobodies." He refused to elaborate, but that answer didn't seem to satisfy their aggressors.

"Is that really how you're gonna address your old war buddies Cap'n?" The grunt laughed, making his fellows join in as they ordered their drinks and took seats nearby. Seeing one of the younger guys in their group look confused, the man once again pointed at Maine and explained. "This guy was our C.O. But after a few shit missions decided to jump ship."

Maine kept silent, but the grip he had on his glass clearly showed his distaste at the situation. The old soldier was thankful that Pilar was following his lead, listening and observing instead of fighting back even as the grunts continued to mock him. Not that the soldiers seemed to notice or care.

"Aw, what's the matter captain? You getting tired?" The first taunted, making his buddies laugh.

"Nah, looks like old age might be catching up with him." A second added, doing a terrible old man impersonation afterwards.

"Now now, least he's kept something high and tight." A third pointed at his hair, "although I can't tell in this lighting if he's gone gray or is still platinum."

"It's still blond." The second was a lot calmer than his buddies. "Methinks though his wit and faculties have been dulled by the drink. The gonk's not even bothering to defend himself."

"Yeah." The first spoke up again, "guess liquid courage doesn't help cowards now, does it?"

The group laughed as Maine just grumbled and called for his bill, settling it (and Pilar's) before deciding he was going to step outside for some air. He had only taken a few strides away from the place when he heard the doors open behind him. Expecting Pilar, he was caught off-guard when he noticed it was the three grunts who decided to follow. Gone were their false expressions of jocularity, replaced with a cold indifference as they stared at him. He knew some of the men still held a grudge against him for leaving, and there was no doubt in his mind that these three were going to try and settle it.

"What do you want?" Maine asked, muscles tensing as he prepared for the conflict he knew was coming.

"I think you know what we want, captain." The first replied, and Maine noticed he had taken on a similar posture to him.

"They haven't drawn iron. Only carrying a pistol, maybe a knife..." He appraised their gear, thankful that they had stripped down before going out. "I might be able to take out the three of them, but anymore than that?"

Maine saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and before he could process what happened, two of the three men were on the ground. Pilar stood just behind them, both arms stretched out and hands formed into fist. The action had been just distracting enough for the third man, the one who was staring down Maine, to lose focus, allowing him to get in a quick punch to knock him out as well.

"That's what you get for ignoring me." Pilar made a chopping motion at his crotch, and for a second Maine wondered if Pilar was addressing him or the knocked out gonks.

"Me or them?" Maine grunted, relaxing only slightly as Pilar poked the nearest guy to him with his foot.

"Them. Honestly, I was right there and they decided to pick on you?" He shook his head, "I get that they're supposed to be soldiers, but come on."

"Bunch of chucklefucks is more like it." The blond spat on the one nearest to him, "can't even pick a fight right. But...They may be good for something."

"Okay?" Pilar questioned as Maine picked up two of the three and threw them over his shoulders, motioning for Pilar to grab the third. "So what's the plan now?"

"The guy we're looking for does supply runs to Dogtown, it's why he's been such a bitch to make pay up." He started walking towards the waterfront. "Thinkin' we interrogate these three and see if they know him."

"Ooh! I like the way you think." Pilar grabbed the third man by his collar and started dragging him along the ground behind Maine. After a short walk, the pair came across one of the old warehouses and Maine motioned for him to go inside. The place was falling apart, but it had everything Maine was hoping to find. Pipes running along the walls, ropes and other ties, and an old desk from when the place actually functioned instead of just being a glorified storage room for the junk of whoever owned the place.

"Drop him with his buddies, and move that desk over here next to these pipes." Maine ordered, and Pilar was all too eager to comply. Picking up the first grunt, Maine threw him over the desk so that his ass was in the air. Picking up a rope, Maine carefully tied the grunt to the pipes in such a way that he couldn't even gain leverage to roll over. Understanding, Pilar took care of tying up the second guy in the same fashion while Maine did the third.

"So what now?"

"Ever see Deliverance?" By the way Pilar cackled, Maine knew the man understood what he was asking. The two of them laughed as they pulled down the pants of the three tied-up grunts, leaving their asses bear for all to see. Their raucous laughter served to break the grunts out of their stupor, and Maine took a moment to admire the expressions of confused terror on their faces as they realized the situation they were in.

"The fuck is this!?"

"Shit man! Fuck is wrong with you!?"

He let the three of them ramble a minute, before calling them to attention. It might have been a few years since he was their commander, but the authoritative tone was enough for their training to kick in, and they stilled.

"Boys, you interrupted me while I was scouting for some intel about one of your suppliers." Maine kept his steps slow and heavy as he moved beside them, their heads swiveling to look at him as he spoke. "Now, normally I'd have no problem cutting dogs like you till you bleed out or tell me what you know. Sadly for you, I owe the gangly fuck behind you a favor... And what better way to pay back a choom than helping them end their dry spell."

As one, the three of them turned their heads as much as they could. Once all eyes were upon him, Pilar unzipped his pants and dropped them just enough to release the Dong-of-Dafoe from its cloth prison. Even at half-mast, Maine had to admit it was an intimidating sight. The two grunts on the end looked away, while the one in the middle, who Pilar was standing behind, flinched and looked ready to cry.

"You sure you don't mind?" Pilar asked, thrusting forward just slightly as he wiggled his cock with a hand. "This ugly bastard likes to get mean!"

"I said it's fine. Just don't expect me to watch." Maine half-turned, but kept his voice loud enough to be heard by all. "Last time you ripped their ass open all the way to their guts and I don't wanna see another guy die when you pull out."

"Oh come on, that was a one-off. I was just a little too rough with them." Pilar placed a firm grip on his cock, and it took all of Maine's will and strength to not flinch or look away as Pilar slapped his artificial python against the bare butt-cheek of the grunt in the center while bringing a hand down on the rears of the other two. The light slap of skinn striking skin echoed around the building, shattering whatever resolved remained of the men.

"We'll talk! We'll fuckin' talk!" The first guy Maine tied up cried as the other guy on the end nodded. Only the middle man seemed too scared to do anything except lie there. "Just keep him and that thing on him away from my ass!"

Pilar moved around to the side of the first guy, crotch perfectly level with his face. "Is his mouth an option?"

"Down boy, you can hate fuck 'em to death if he says anything we don't like." Maine grinned, before looking back at the grunts and starting the interrogation. All things considered, it went well and Maine soon had an address on where to find their guy and some additional information about him. He had cut them loose after that, and laughed at how quickly they tried to pull up their pants and run. Maine flat out lost it after Pilar, whose own pants were still down, chased after them. Telling them to run before he makes 'em squeal like a piggy.

"Oh shit..." Pilar returned a moment later, panting but grinning like mad. "That, was fun."

"Yeah." Maine coughed, catching his breath from laughing. "Did you really have to take it that far?"

"Oh come on, I ain't the best at improvising." The old soldier gestured to Pilar's lack of pants.

"Just glad we were able to wrap that up quickly." The techie took to fixing himself, "didn't want to have my dick hanging out all night!"

"Pilar...You slapped his ass with your dick." Maine shook his head, motioning towards the door. "If anyone took things too far, it was you."

"Really?" Pilar frowned, hunching into himself in a pose at odds with the expression on his face. "I help you scare the fear of God into those bootlickers and you do me like this?"

"Thanks man, really appreciate the assist." He thumped the techie on the back, keeping his arm in place as they started back towards the bar. "Now, lets go get our guy, turn him over to the authorities...And get another drink. Really feel I need one after seeing...that."

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Maine had returned home in the early hours of the morning after he and Pilar had apprehended their guy and turned him over for the reward. As promised, the payout split was more than enough to cover what they spent, and give them a little extra. Much to his surprise, Dorio was already awake, curled up on the couch in her pajamas (which was basically an oversized t-shirt) and wrapped in a blanket.

"Mornin' stud, did you have fun last night?" She asked, shifting so he could join her on the couch. Kicking off his boots, he complied with her request and sat.

"Yeah. Although I thought the kids were just overreacting about Pilar's new chrome." He wrapped an arm around her, letting out a content sigh as she draped the blanket over him. "Not gonna lie, feeling a little...emasculated now."

"No, you're big enough as it is." Dorio shot down his potential idea before he could even formulate it properly. "Besides, toys are nice, but they just don't compare to the real thing." One of her hands made its way to his waist, and slipped into his pants to gently stroke him.

"Thought you said I needed other ways to relax." He teased, even as he shifted so Dorio had better access.

"I did, but consider this a reward for being a good boy" Her grip tightened just slightly and Maine groaned at the praise. He wondered if Dorio would still reward him if she knew what else happened last night. "And proof that I'm more than content with you as you are now."

Another grunt escaped him as he let her do as she pleased, something which culminated in the two of them needing to take a shower. He had fallen asleep shortly after drying off, and didn't wake up until it was nearing lunch time. Getting dressed, he stepped out of the bedroom to see Dorio in the kitchen, along with a tired and exasperated looking Becca.

"Oh uh, hey Becca." He moved into the kitchen and grabbed a can of Chromanticore from the fridge. "What brings you here?"

"My brother's bullshit." The girl answered, and Maine could tell by the look in Becca's eyes that Pilar probably told her about their escapades last night.

"She wanted to get away, I invited her over for lunch...and then we're probably going to go out like you and Pilar did." Dorio answered, moving over to the table with two bowls in hand. Once she placed them down, he recognized the contents as 'Soop over rice'...One of Dorio's favorites, but something that made him genuinely miss MREs. "Did you want me to make you something before we head out?"

"Nah." He shook his head, moving to sit on the couch. "I'll make myself something in a bit. Or maybe I'll just grab something."

"There's a new Thai place that just opened near mine and Pilar's place. It's pretty good." Becca offered, happily digging into the bowl Dorio gave her. "Oh wait, they don't serve burgers."

"Hey, Thai food's...not bad." He replied, causing Dorio to choke on the bite she had just taken as she laughed. "What? I've eaten Pad Thai before."

"Yeah, like once." She got up from the table and pulled a Cirrus from the fridge for herself before tossing one to Becca. "And that was only because it was one of the few things you found with synth-meat in it at that international street festival that you recognized. Just saying, you need to try something new every once in awhile."

"Fine." His stomach growled, much as he disliked what Dorio had cooked, the smell was getting to him. "Maybe I'll go back to the Cojo. Try another one of those burger things I had last time." Thinking about it, something spicy like that sounded rather appealing. "What was it called? An emphysema?"

Bits of food and a spray of soda rained over the table as the two girls broke out laughing.

"Empanada." Dorio corrected, wiping at her eyes as Becca swore she was going to die while she gasped for air. "See? Shit like this...Is why you need, desperately, to expand your worldview."

Maine rolled his eyes, but conceded that Dorio had a point. Not wanting to subject himself to more of Dorio or Becca's teasing, Maine decided to duck out then and took the drive over to the Cojo.

Mama Welles welcomed him with open arms, ushering him to one of the booths even after he told her was dining alone.

"You sure?" He asked as she handed him a menu. "I'd be fine at the bar."

"You've been looking after my grandson, and dealing with my sons." Mama Welles placed a hand on his shoulder, "you deserve to relax. Now, I believe you were drinking Chromanticore last time?"

"Everyone keeps saying that." He shook his head, realizing something else. "And you remember that?"

"Hard to forget a man who drank a six pack of the stuff on his own." The older woman squeezed his shoulder, looking at him with a mix of motherly affection and disappointment. "Now, what would you like to eat?"

"I want to try something new, but nothing too crazy? I mean, I liked that Mexican burger you gave me last time." His brow creased as he tried to recall the proper name. "You know, the in panda thing?"

"Empanada, chico." She gently swatted his shoulder, a laugh escaping her. "And if you liked that, think I'll have you try the chalupas next. They're like a taco, but the shell is fried instead of baked. Oh don't worry, I'll make you an order of empanadas if you don't like the chalupas."

"That's fair. Thanks." Maine gave a nod as Mama moved away from the table. He cracked his neck, looking around the bar as he waited. His attention had been focused on one of the Valentinos paintings on the wall nearest him when Mama Welles returned with his drink and meal.

Three, shallow cups made from fried corn dough rested on a plate. From what he could tell, two of them had meat – and while he couldn't tell what kind, both had been topped with red salsa, cheese, and lettuce. While the third appeared to be just filled with salsa, lettuce, and cheese. A cheese or cream based sauce had also been drizzled over all three, but Maine couldn't tell if it was meant as a garnish or to add more flavor.

"One traditional." Mama Welles pointed to the vegetable filled one, "one syn-chicken and one syn-beef." She pointed to the other two, "figured you would appreciate a little variety."

"Well, it smells good." The scent of various spices and onion tickled his nose, and he had to admit they also looked good. Seeing a fork and knife on the plate he had been brought raised another question he had. "So do I just pick it up and eat it like a taco or?"

"Either or. Just don't try to fold it in half if you decide to use your hands. It will break and you'll make a mess of yourself and my restaurant." Once more, she gave him a pat on the shoulder before moving away. "I'll check back with you in a little bit, but when I do – I better see at least one bite have been taken of each kind, alright?"

"Yes m'am." Maine saluted, making Mama Welles laugh again as she moved to take care of a few other things. Taking up his utensils, Maine decided to try the traditional one first. He cut off a piece and picked it up with his fork. The coolness of the lettuce and the creaminess of the cheese were a nice contrast to the zest of the salsa. But while it tasted good, Maine couldn't help but feel it needed something more.

He tried the chicken one next, tongue instantly picking up on whatever spices had been used to season it. The tang of the salsa further elevated the spice of the chicken, and Maine found himself trying to break off just bits of the shell to help cleanse his pallet of the lingering spice. Final verdict? Maybe try it again without the salsa...or ask if it could be made with plain syn-chicken.

The last one was the beef chalupa...and Maine would have been alright with dying after the first bite passed his lips. The beef was perfectly spiced, and the salsa added a wonderful contrasting texture against the meat. The lettuce and cheese balancing out the other two with their softer flavors. In short, it hit all of his criteria for a good meal. If asked to sum it up in one word? Satisfying.

The beef chalupa got a pass, but he couldn't quite decide if he liked the other two kinds or not.

"Hey Maine, good to see you man." Maine was brought out of his food critiquing by the sound of Jackie addressing him. He returned the greeting even as the Latino man slid into the seat across from him. Jackie's head looked around, as if searching for something or someone. "Dorio in the bathroom?"

"No. It's just me today." He admitted, taking a sip of his drink before taking another bite of the chicken chalupa.

"Oh, you have it out with her?" Jackie asked, trying to gauge his reaction. "Or are you trying to find something you like for when you surprise her with a date night here?"

The idea that he could surprise Dorio by willingly ordering something new made him laugh. "Didn't think of that, but yeah. Think if I do bring Dory here for a date, I'll order these cha-loop-ah thingies. Especially the beef one." He took another bite of beef chalupa and held it in his mouth before swallowing. "Can't decide if I like the other two. I mean, the veggie one is nice...but the chicken one? Seems a little too spicy."

"I hear that a lot. Mama uses her special 'pollo patron' blend for them. Simmers the chicken in some cream sauce with some kind of pepper before shredding it." Jackie mimed the action as he spoke. "Not that I know the details. I just eat it when its my food, or deliver it to the tables when it isn't."

"I feel that way about some of the stuff Dorio cooks. Couldn't tell you what's in it, but I'll eat it." He laughed, taking a sip of his drink as Pepe stopped by the table with a couple bottles of beer that he left with Jackie. The two solos fell into a conversation then, talking about the last few weeks and other mundane things. It was only when Mama stopped by to see how Maine liked the food, which aside from the chicken, he did. That conversations circled back to why he was at the Cojo in the first place.

"Can't help but feel there's more to it than just you suddenly having a desire to try new foods." Jackie questioned as Mama dropped off a plate of bite-sized churros, insisting that he try them as well.

"Trying to relax and de-stress a bit." He picked up one of the churros and studied it. Sniffing it, he recognized the smell and coating as a cinnamon-sugar blend, a combination he was just as fond of as Dorio was. "Doctor's orders. But I'm having a bit of trouble following orders." Maine told Jackie about the last couple days, and how he just couldn't seem to fully step back and unwind. "I was hoping something new would distract me, but..."

The old soldier shrugged, looking to Jackie for any advice he could offer. The other man had been listening intently, only asking a question every once in awhile as Maine vented. After a moment, Jackie gave a single nod and spoke.

"Think I might have a solution to your problem." He paused, scratching the back of his head. "Well, its more like I have the person who will know the solution to your problem."

"And that is?"

"Misty." Jackie smiled, no hesitance in his answer. "If anyone can help you out, it's her."

Maine let out a thoughtful hum. He had only met Misty on two occasions – the first when she came to get her lunch when he was having his check-up. And the second when it was Dorio's turn for a check-up from Viktor a week later. He knew she ran the shop that served as a front for their ripper, and that she seemed better at handling psychological issues instead of physical ones. Heck, David and Lucy both sang her praises after she helped them...And Dorio admitted she seemed like a sweet girl after getting to know her a bit better at the housewarming party he skipped out on.

With all that in mind, Maine decided to throw caution to the wind. "Eh sure, what do I got to lose?"

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Having only come through the back to get to Viktor's clinic, Maine had never actually been inside Misty's shop. Statues, crystals, books, and other knick-knacks lined the walls and the small display shelves. He knew that it catered to 'new age healing', but didn't put much stock into stuff like that. Something that he even told Jackie as they first arrived.

"That's what a lot of people say." Jackie didn't seem offended by Maine's dismissal of his girl's business. "And maybe it is all just a suggestive, mind over matter type deal in some respects. But it seems to help those willing to open themselves to it."

The sound of soft clapping grabbed their attention, and the pair turned to see Misty stepping out of the storeroom. "Beautiful way to put that Jackie."

"Aww, thanks chica." Jackie pulled Misty in for a side hug, even as she fully embraced him. The couple stayed like that a moment, before Misty noticed him.

"Oh hey. It's Maine, right?" She pushed away from Jackie, smiling as she moved towards the counter.

"Yeah." He nodded, intrigued that she remembered him despite interacting with her for maybe two hours in total. "It's uh, nice to see you again."

"Likewise." The girl agreed, "Anyhow, I'm guessing you're here to see Vik?"

"Actually, I brought this one in to see you." Jackie, ever the perfect right-hand man, pushed Maine towards the counter. "Go on choom, tell her what's goin' on."

"This is a little embarrassing but..." Maine pointed to his head. "I don't suppose you know some mystic mumbo jumbo bullshit that can unfuck this?"

Misty's eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Your... brain?"

"Yup." He pointed at the clinic. "Doc Vik says I've got a neuro-degenerative condition. Short version? My brain's fucked. Stress speeds it up. Suggested that I find ways to unload or I'll burn out. Jackie says you can help."

"I see." Misty closed her eyes a moment to think, opening them a moment later. "Well, there's quite a few options that can help with that." Misty moved to one of the shelves, indicating the items on it. "Teas and herbal supplements. Or burning incense."

"I'm taking enough pills, and I don't like leaf water." Maine pushed back, but Misty shrugged it off. "and I don't see how torching sibling porn would help."

"That's in-cest." She emphasized the last syllable, expression unchanged. "Common enough mispronunciation. But anyways, there's still plenty of options available to you. Meditative braindances, or sleep subliminal sessions. ASMR shards have become popular again in recent years. " She picked up a small case of media shards, explaining as she noticed Maine's confused expression. "Have you ever heard something and it's just sent a shiver of delight down your back? Or felt at ease hearing it? That's ASMR – sounds or similar media that help a person relax. For some, that's nature sounds. Others prefer gentle whispers, or to watch someone paint. And still others enjoy hearing the sounds of wood turning, or marbles rolling." Misty's face took on a slight pinkish tint as she picked up another case. "And some prefer sounds of a more...lewd nature."

"Dorio already shot down my idea of a week of sex as relaxation." The blond man stated bluntly, making Jackie cough and Misty blush a little more. "And I'm not exactly a 'sit and relax' kind of guy, ya know?"

"Then maybe a more physical form of meditation." The girl recovered, setting the case she had been holding down towards the back of the shelf before moving to another display. "There's 'progressive relaxation' – which involves tensing and relaxing the muscle groups one at a time. It's designed to reduce tension, relieve stress, and help you unwind. I recommend this if you're having trouble sleeping." She indicated another collection of media shards. "There's also 'movement meditation', which is a more active form that guides you to a deeper connection with your body and the present moment. It's a good choice if you're someone who finds peace in action."

"Like the sound of that better. What are my options?"

"There's a few options that benefit both mind and body. Walking meditation lets you move around an area, but is better practiced outdoors as some find they feel trapped pacing around their house. The opposite of what we want." She picked up a book off one of the shelves. "Yoga's popular if you also want to increase your flexibility at the same time. Tai chi is another one if you'd prefer to be moving instead of just bending and flexing."

After a moment of flipping through pages, Misty showed him some pictures of both styles. Yoga didn't appeal to him (that and he felt it would be ridiculous for a guy his size to do some of the poses), but the pictures of people practicing tai chi reminded Maine of the stances he'd see people take in the old kung-fu movies.

"You know, think I try my hand at tai chi. It looks interesting." He answered as Misty put the book away. "Any recommendations?"

"Here." The mystic shopkeeper handed him a shard. "This one will teach you the basics, and give you a couple basic routines to try. Once you get a handle on it, you can buy a couple more or even look into finding an instructor. My friend Hikari holds a session every week at her studio a few streets over every week."

"I'll take it." Maine handed over his eddies, thanking Misty and Jackie for their time. He headed back to his apartment after that, not surprised to find it empty given that Dorio had gone out. Making himself a quick dinner of a burrito, Maine did a little more research on tai chi on his own, before deciding to check out the shard.

Still not a hundred percent sure on what doing tai chi would entail, Maine changed into his workout clothes (which consisted of a tank top and boxers) and made sure that the area around the TV was cleared as much as it could before popping the shard in to play. Peaceful music started to play as the instructor appeared on the screen. The woman's voice was smooth as she gave her introduction, before starting to demonstrate the movements.

"Stand with your feet together. Bring your arms up, breathe in and let them float down as you breathe out." She instructed, and Maine followed along. He felt foolish at first, flapping his arms like the birds once did. Hugging a non-existent tree, and pushing and pulling invisible water. His opinion started to change however as she chained the actions together, and everything started to flow in an elegant dance.

"Push the waves, back and forth...Breathe in, and float..." He muttered along, so focused on the TV that he didn't hear the door open.

"Maine?" Dorio's voice broke him out of his trance, laughter in its tone.

"Ah! Dorio!" Startled and embarrassed as he realized he was still flapping like a bird, he stumbled backwards. Smacking into the end table, he landed on his butt and knocked the can of Chromanticore he had left sitting there into his lap. He pouted, even as he heard her trying to hold back her giggles while she grabbed him a towel.

"What were you doing?" Her voice was near his ear, and he looked up to see her kneeling beside him, towel in hand.

"Decided to try my hand at moving meditation." He took the towel from her and started dabbing at his clothes. "Misty recommended it after I told her how I was having a hard time relaxing. Said its good for both body and mind."

"Uh huh." Dorio looked at the TV, holding out a hand. "And how's that working out so far?"

"Honestly?" He handed her the towel, letting her pull him up with her other hand. "I like it. The movements are easy, the music's nice, and I was actually feeling at ease while following along."

Dorio's attention turned back to the TV as the instructor began her next lesson. "Hold the moonlight, compress it...and release. And collect, and release."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow, eyes going between Maine and the TV with her mouth set in a line.

"Really." He pouted slightly, trying to figure out what Dorio's expression meant. "This is only a basics video, but what I said is true. I...actually do feel more relaxed as I go through the motions." Maine smiled as he saw Dorio's mouth twitch as the instructor once again told him to hug the tree. "Ridiculous as some of them may sound."

"Honestly, that's fair." Dorio embraced him then, "sorry for laughing at you. But I'm glad you may have found something to help you relax and unwind."

"It's fine." He returned the embrace. "Guess that makes us even for the times I've caught you dancing when you think no one's watching."

Maine grinned as Dorio whined and sunk into her jacket, burying herself in his chest in embarrassment. She muttered something about that being her way to de-stress and let loose, making him laugh. He told her she should buy some dance chips to help her, only driving her further into her jacket. "What, I think it's cute. Especially when you get all defensive like you are now."

"Go fuck yourself." There was no power behind the request, and he could feel her struggling to maintain her put off expression.

"Thought that's what I had you for?" Maine laughed, and Dorio groaned before she started playfully beating on his chest. Somehow, everything felt right in that moment, and Maine had to admit he felt lighter than he had in a long time. Maybe there was something to be said about the power of the mind. Or maybe the medications were really taking hold. Whatever the reason, Maine had to admit he liked the feeling, and wouldn't mind taking a break every now and then if he got to experience it more.